The Book of Leah

End of the Innocence - Chapter 17

Evening, Thursday, June 11, Stanton House, Milwaukee Suburbs

After finishing his dinner, Jacob went upstairs and grabbed the cordless phone from the cradle in the sitting room, pulled out his calling card, and punched in the numbers. He waited as the phone rang twice, then heard the warm voice of his mother answer.

"Hello," Cindy's voice greeted brightly, "This is Cindy Stanton."

"Hey, Mom," Jake answered with hesitancy in his voice, "Grandpa left a note that—"

"That I called three hours ago," Cindy cut him off , her voice turning the conversation as cold as an open door in winter.

"I just got home. I was out—" he stammered.

"Oh, I'm sure you were 'out'." Cindy scoffed. "I talked with your Aunt Evelyn, she told me you've already been 'out' twice with the Eaton girl."

"Bonnie, Oh my God, Mom, she's—" he clenched his fist, his voice tightening, "I was with Aunt Edith all day, Grandpa should have told you that."

"I didn't talk with Alvin long, son. We have a mutual understanding that works best for both of us," she sighed. "But no matter, the reason I called is because I got a call from Christopher Carroll at Carroll and Brown." She paused expecting Jake to answer, but Jake remained silent, further engaging her wrath. "You never scheduled with him before you left, not even a damn note. You can do whatever you want on your own time, but when it affects my reputation..."

"Do what? An interview that doesn't—" he tried to say.

"Doesn't matter," she barked. "It doesn't matter? It's your alumni interview for applying to Stanford. It is required. Unbelievable, you..." she paused, trying to calm herself. "You have to do it. I took the time to set that up, I even had lunch with the man to field all his questions about you and ensure that your interview went smoothly no matter what nonsense you might say ."

Jake felt the verbal slap. "I know how to do an interview, God knows I've seen you do enough of them," he responded. "But I don't want to go to Stanford, I don't want to major in Business, or try to get into Grad School."

"I don't care what you want," she countered. "This isn't about you. It's about the future, it's about the company, and your place in it."

"What if I don't want..." Jake tried to interject.

"Don't want what? A future?" Cindy interrupted. " You're just a kid. You have no clue what you want. Or what you truly need. And clearly, you have no idea about the realities of life," she interrupted.

"What are you talking about? I know what I..." said Jake, trying to get back into the conversation.

"Just stop," Cindy said sharply, silencing him. "Let me explain one very simple rule, little boy," she said, slowing her voice as she nuanced through each word as if she were stringing pearls. "She who has the gold makes the rules. And in case you have forgotten, I have the gold."

"I don't want it," he said, barely audible.

"Speak up, Jacob! If you want to be treated like a man, learn to enunciate," Cindy hissed.

"I don't want it," Jake shouted, louder than he intended.

"Found your tongue, have you?" Cindy said in a mocking laugh. "What exactly don't you want, because I'll have fun writing that list. Where do you want to start?"

"Why are you being like this?" asked Jake, his voice thick with hurt. "Why can't I pick where I go to college, who my friends are, or if I play baseball or not? I don't get it. I thought you cared."

"What did you say?" Cindy clipped.

"Why don't you care?" Jake repeated, his voice flat.

"Of course I care, Jacob. I care about our business, I care about our future, and I care about where you belong within it. Don't you dare question that," Cindy said, regaining some calm in her voice.

"Two months, and I'm eighteen," Jake said, trying to control his emotions. "Then I can choose for myself. You won't be able to control me anymore."

"Control you?" Cindy scoffed. "That's how you see it. Well, let me make this perfectly clear, Jacob. That door swings only one way. Think long and hard before you decide to open it."

"If that's what it takes, I'd do it," he muttered.

"You ungrateful child!" Cindy exploded. "I should put you on a plane tomorrow and drag you back home, your little escapades be damned."

"I won't get on the plane. And I..." he started.

"Are you threatening me?" Cindy interrupted, her voice laced with ice.

"Be careful what you wish for, Jacob," she warned. "And just in case you're wondering, I always get what I want." Then, with a slam, the line went dead.

Jake slammed the phone down. Consumed by burning emotions, he stared out the window. His heart raced, his mind on fire, as the reality finally hit him. She truly didn't care. His hopes, his dreams meant nothing. Nothing in her world held more importance than her relentless pursuit of the next thing – the next picture, the next article, the next cocktail party, the next profile to bolster her reputation. He was either a pawn in her game or a piece to be discarded. 

He looked out the window at the darkness and yelled. It was a primal scream, a desperate release of the emotions churning within him. He yelled until his voice gave out, the raw pain and abandonment threatening to consume him. Finally, exhausted, he collapsed onto the couch. He pulled the old, ragged turtle blanket from his childhood summers around him, a small comfort in the face of his pain. Curled beneath it, he wept himself to sleep, his body mercifully granting him escape from the harsh reality.